


Balancé

by cardiac_arrest



Series: Dancing's Not a Crime [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Cuz I am, GASP, M/M, are yall happy, i did it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 11:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17202437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardiac_arrest/pseuds/cardiac_arrest
Summary: “I really, really like Auston Matthews,” Mitch sighs, catching a glimpse of the man walking past their doorway as their ballet master let them take a small break from morning class.“We know,” Willy drones on without feeling. He’s been hearing the same thing since they were seventeen.Kappy laughs, “a lot of people really really like Auston Matthews. Practically everyone at this company, really.”“Yeah, there’s always a ton of people following him around,” Mitch sulks.





	Balancé

**Author's Note:**

> ballet au!!!! im so glad the boys were canon dolls so i could do this :) here's the version of the dance that mitchy does: https://youtu.be/zV1qLYukTH8 honestly its so beautiful i actually cant. 
> 
> have fun reading guys, this is supposed to be part of a series so lets see

When Mitch was four, his parents put him in ballet class. It was a small studio near Bayview. Many of the students were girls, but some of Mitch’s best memories of ballet were made at that school. His parents had always complained about how much he jumped and twirled around in their living room when he first learned how to walk; it was one of the reasons they put him in ballet in the first place. There were countless stories of them being terrified that he would fall down and break a limb from his multitude of adventures.

 

But Mitch didn’t, so. 

 

During his time at the small studio, he only had one friend there that was a boy. So when the rest of the girls started pre-pointe, the teacher had pulled him aside along with Luke, the only other boy in his class, and asked them if they would like to start pointe as well. Mitch said yes — he had always been fascinated by the turns and jumps en pointe, especially after his mother had shown him a video of Odile doing thirty-two fouettés in a row. But he guesses Luke was pretty appalled by the idea. He had quit the next day. 

 

Mitch had heard from his mom when he was young that pointe hadn’t always been for men. There used to only be girls who were allowed to be en pointe. Only girls were seen as dainty and pretty enough to dance on the tip of their toes. Mitch was glad he wasn’t born during that period of time. There was nothing he loved more in ballet than pointe. 

 

When Mitch first auditioned to go to the National Ballet School of Canada, he was in grade five. His ballet teacher in Bayview cheered him on when she first heard of the news, fully sure that he would make it big. The class he first went to at the National Ballet School was fun. It was the first time that he saw so many other boys his age that actually  _ liked _ ballet. There were also many, many girls and boys much older than him. They were much more elegant than all the kids his age and the moves they knew how to do looked so  _ hard _ . But the older girls were drew Mitch’s attention the most. Those fancy pirouettes and grand jetés they were doing, en pointe as well, were stunning.  _ He  _ wanted to do them. Mitch guesses that was when he knew ballet was his career. 

 

After making it to the National School of Ballet, Mitch learned more than he had ever learned with his previous teacher. Though he is still very close with her, obviously she was the one who introduced him to ballet. He met a boy named William Nylander, a Swede born in Canada that was the same age as him. He found that kind of peculiar. 

William, or Willy, also wanted to do pointe. The two of them stuck like glue for the whole six years they were at the National School of Ballet. Willy lived in residence at the school, which Mitch found kinda cool. As the years went by, Mitch and Willy both got to learn pointe, though everything got way more challenging. Sometimes it was hard to balance academic work, ballet work, and the mental and physical stress that was placed on Mitch’s body. Ice packs everyday after practice and lessons were the new norm for Mitch after he had turned sixteen. But it was great to have Willy all along the way with him — he was always there to pull Mitch out of a hole that he’d dug himself into.

 

By the time Mitch was seventeen, only a year away from graduation and that much closer to applying for an Apprenticeship for the National Ballet of Canada, news had struck about Auston Matthews. Auston Matthews, living and breathing ballet  _ legend _ , had joined the National Ballet of Canada. Auston fucking Matthews. Mitch remembers screaming with Willy in Willy’s shared room at the school, throat hoarse after the unbelief had settled in. 

 

Auston Matthews was a rising star. Being four years older than Mitch, he had been making a name for himself ever since he was nineteen. He was originally from Arizona but moved to New York to go to the Joffrey School of Ballet. According to multiple media outlets, Auston had also played sports when he was young. Which, really, was quite interesting to Mitch. He had been a prodigy since day one. Auston also didn’t fit any of the stereotypical molds of ballet; tall and muscular instead of lean. That didn’t mean he was a lumbering truck, though, with poise and gracefulness somehow engraved into his body. Mitch would’ve aspired to be him if he didn’t want to go en pointe, but he did, so he was settling for dancing  _ with _ him. 

 

Mitch had told Willy that too, but Willy just laughed in his face and mentioned the other principal dancers currently at the company. Then he started listing everyone that they knew that wasn’t him. Sometimes Willy was mean. 

 

That was when Mitch really knew what he wanted to do. With Auston taking up many of the prominent male roles in well-known ballets, Mitch only had to focus on one role. Mitch wanted to be the Sugar Plum Fairy. Auston was usually the Cavalier, so he would automatically get to dance with him if he made it. And if he did, changing the gender of the Fairy wouldn’t be too hard. The choreographers could move some things around like they did for every dancer — new costumes, different names, just like what they had done when he played “Clarence” in the Nutcracker. Mitch knew it was a very sought-after role but frankly, he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to be discouraged by Willy’s laments about how some other prettier girl would likely be considered for the role, even though he knew that such a principal  _ female _ character was prejudiced to be played by a female dancer. 

 

So Mitch worked hard, sometimes sneaking away from home to dance with Willy in an unused studio in the school. Sometimes, they’d get so desperate that they would just dance out in the streets, uncaring if their sneakers had burnt off soles because of the friction from the pavement. There were days where he would work out for hours, training his muscles to withstand more and more duress. He probably didn’t have to go to the levels that the boys who didn’t go en pointe would go to, but Mitch just really didn’t want to disappoint.  

 

Through all the years, Mitch really appreciated having Willy as a friend, even though they were probably supposed to be competing against each other for a coveted spot in the professional ballet world. He knew that they were both skilled enough to work and make something crazy out of their ballet careers, so he didn’t pay the idea too much mind.

 

And when Mitch entered his final year at the ballet school, he was ready for it. He was ready for all the extra work that the teachers were pushing onto them. More precise moves, sharper memory, quicker feet, and more realistic emotions. Mich also had to get good marks academically; he needed a backup plan if ballet wasn’t going to work out. But he knew it was going to work out. 

 

Mitch submitted his application along with Willy to the National Ballet of Canada’s Apprenticeship programme early on in his final year, hoped for the best, and just kept on dancing. The company contacted him back during December, inviting him to auditions. It’d been crazy to be accepted, Willy getting in as well. 

 

Mitch thinks that was the best day of his life. And now, every day was spent learning alongside all the wonderful talent present at the NBC.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“You gotta get up, Willy,” Mitch says as he opens the door to Willy’s room. They’re renting an apartment together in downtown Toronto just to be closer to the NBC. 

 

Willy groans, rolling around in his sheets, “just five more minutes.” 

 

Mitch scoffs, barging into Willy’s room and swiping the sheets off of Willy. 

 

“Shit! Mitch!” Willy yells, trying to burrow back into the warmth of the sheets. He isn’t wearing anything except boxers underneath the covers. 

 

“You’re dumb. I got smoothies done already. Come eat some stuff, we gotta go,” Mitch laughs, throwing Willy’s duvet on the ground with a flourish. He curtseys, a mocking gesture to get Willy out of bed. 

 

“You’re washing my sheets when we get back!” Willy scoffs as Mitch walks back out into the kitchen. Mitch snorts, just audible enough for Willy to hear it. He’s never going to do laundry for anyone. 

 

*** 

 

“I really, really like Auston Matthews,” Mitch sighs, catching a glimpse of the man walking past their doorway as their ballet master let them take a small break from morning class. 

 

“We know,” Willy drones on without feeling. He’s been hearing the same thing since they were seventeen. 

 

Kasperi, Kappy, laughs, “a lot of people really really like Auston Matthews. Practically everyone at this company, really.” Kappy was another Apprentice at the NBC, however, he didn’t see any appeal in pointe.

 

“Yeah, there’s always a ton of people following him around,” Mitch sulks. 

 

Auston, being the star that he is around the world, is loved by almost everybody at the company — corps de ballet, principal dancers, even  _ artistic directors _ . There were always groups of people surrounding him at a time, trying to talk to him and somehow get a smile out of him. Auston Matthews wasn’t someone who smiled easily, but when he did, it was blinding. His eyes would get all crinkly, perfect white teeth on display. There was a soft undertone to it. And when that smile was directed to you, you really felt special. 

 

Not only that, Frederik Andersen, a famous Dane that had graduated from the Royal Danish School that had a brief stint at the Royal Danish Ballet, is his best friend. He’s somehow more built than Auston, with muscles upon muscles. Even without the ever-present entourage, Auston Matthews is intimidating. But with Freddie Andersen as his best friend, his easy confidence on the stage, and terrifyingly beautiful smile, Mitch had decided long ago to  _ never _ try to talk to Auston Matthews. He would only make a fool of himself. His crush on Auston Matthews was a long-suffering one and one that would never see the light of day. 

 

“It’s okay, Mitchy. You’ll find someone like Auston,” Willy says out loud, maybe a bit too loud. 

 

“You need to chill with the volume of your voice,” Mitch hisses, poking at Willy’s waist with a foot. Willy should be glad he isn’t wearing pointe shoes. 

 

“Ah!” Willy squirms, rolling around on the floor and sprawling onto Kappy. “You ungrateful boy! Who was there to talk you out of that prank on graduation day?”

 

“Graduation day?” Kappy perks up, stretching out his legs and pushing Willy off of him. “I’ve never heard that story, tell me.”

 

“Shut up Willy, no one’s ever going to know about that,” Mitch says, blushing slightly. 

 

As the ballet master gathers all the dancers up to continue with the morning class, Mitch steps close to Willy and asks, “are you down to dance tonight?”

 

“I can’t,” Willy flushes. “I’ve got something with Kappy.” 

 

Mitch smirks, “Kappy huh? Tell me the details tomorrow.” 

 

Willy smacks at him, “shut up, man. I’m not all up in your non-existent love life all the time.” 

 

Mitch only lets him go with a sly look on a face and a punch in the arm.

 

***

 

Mitch sneaks into one of the studios at NBC during the night, around nine. It’s only late September and the weather isn’t too cold. Mitch is already dressed in his ballet gear, pointe shoes in his carry-on bag. The security already knows him even though his contract just started and his time at the NBC has been minimal. They usually just let him go ahead when there wasn’t anything too important on the schedule. He gives a thankful yet bashful smile to the security guard with the buzzed head that waves him through, ducking his head as he enters the doors. 

 

He finds his way into one of the upper-level studios, tiptoeing silently so none of the ballet masters or company members see or hear him. He’s sure there are many people still here practicing. He turns on some of the lights, trying to remain undetected to everyone else still present. 

 

Mitch closes the door to the room with a deep exhale, pulling his bag around his body. He sets his outdoor shoes in the right corner at the entrance, sitting down as he pulls his canvas ballet shoes on first. He has to warm up first before he puts on his pointe shoes, he doesn’t want to pull a muscle. He starts off his impromptu practice with some footwork at the barre. The usual plié combination followed by tendu, dégagé, grand battements and a final barre stretch. He changes his soft shoes to pointe shoes. It’s always a bit weird wearing pointe shoes for the first few minutes. Mitch’s feet always feels a bit cramped, but it’s only normal. He pulls the silky ribbons across his feet, tying them lightly. He seeks out the rosin box in one of the corners of the room, lightly placing both feet in it. 

 

He only came to practice one thing, the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. There are a few brisés and turns he wants to try, but he’s also probably going to do a few tour jetés. Mitch is very partial to those.  

 

The choreography of the dance has been engraved in his mind years ago. He was always practicing the dance whenever he had time. 

 

He turns the music on from his phone, the iconic notes playing out in the background. Mitch gets into it, doing his pirouettes and brisés with grace. He wants everything to be sharp and elegant, but with a tenderness to it that doesn’t get missed in his arms. The music lulls him into a headspace where he can only focus on ballet. The movement of his legs feels like second nature to him, brushing past each other with gentleness. He turns and he only feels air rushing around him. He feels sophisticated, en pointe. He lifts his chin up more, an unconscious smile making its way across his face. 

 

Mitch straightens his back more, tightens his muscles, and turns out more. He feels that energy in his fingertips. He’s in the mood and there isn’t anything that rivals the feeling when he swirls and leaps with unbidden happiness. The music is seconds away from finishing, but Mitch wants to end with something fun, so he finishes with a tour jeté. He really can’t resist. 

 

Mitch is heaving by the end of his little dance, trying to catch his breath. He’s walking towards his bag, away from the front door, when he hears a few claps echo in the studio. He whips back quickly, scared at the prospect of getting caught by an authority figure. 

 

Somehow it’s even worse. It’s Auston Matthews. 

 

“That was great,” Auston Matthews smiles. Holy shit, he’s talking to Mitch,  _ smiling _ at him. Mitch didn’t know his voice would sound even better in real life. He thinks the megawatt smile is also too much to handle. He might faint. 

 

“Thanks,” Mitch replies with a weird smile. He doesn’t think he knows how to smile properly right now. He also isn’t sure if he’s supposed to call Auston by his first name or call him ‘Mr. Matthews’. But the second option does seem kind of ridiculous — they weren’t that far in age. 

 

“What’s your name?” Auston asks as he walks closer to Mitch, there’s a messenger bag hanging off of his shoulder and he seems to be dressed from the day’s dance-wear. Oh. Mitch thinks this was supposed to be his studio for the night. Shit. 

 

Auston continues, “I’m Auston Matthews.” And there’s that blinding smile again. 

 

Mitch can’t believe that  _ Auston Matthews _ thinks there are peopl who don’t know him. 

 

“Mitch,” he says, “Mitch Marner.” Mitch shies away a bit. He just got caught by Auston Matthews dancing the part of the Sugar Plum Fairy. En pointe. Jesus, what the hell did he get himself into?

 

“Well, Mitch,” Auston starts as he paces around Mitch. “What brings you to the studio this late?” He was so big. What the hell. 

 

“This room was supposed to be yours for tonight, isn’t it? Oh god, I enroached on your personal dancing time,” Mitch stutters, already running to the back of the room to grab his bag. “I am so sorry, I’ll leave right now.”

 

Mitch doesn’t even bother taking his pointe shoes off, he’ll do it by the seats at the front entrance of the building. Where the security guards can see his shame. God, when he tells Willy about this, he’s going to laugh at Mitch so hard. This will be blackmail material for the rest of his life, screw the graduation day prank. Though, Mitch really has to rethink his life if every embarassing moment in his life invovles Auston Matthews. 

 

Mitch is almost halfway across the room when he feels Auston tug at his arm, his head is down so he doesn’t make anymore humiliating eye contact. He feels his eyes widen as he lifts his head up to see Auston’s pinched eyebrows. 

 

“Don’t go,” Auston says, there’s a confused look on his face. He’s still holding onto Mitch’s arm with those big hands ( _ god, Mitch is going to  _ die, _ he knows how big Auston’s hands are now _ ) and Mitch feels himself blush. His face feels very, very hot. 

 

“Um, I thought you wanted to have this space to dance,” Mitch utters, not sure where to look. He ends up staring at Auston’s forehead. It’s pretty big. He never noticed that. 

 

“No, no, you were dancing beautifully!” Auston reassures him with a sincere shake of his head, strands of hair flying. “I really wanted to see more of it.” 

 

“Oh. That’s surprising,” Mitch says before he realises. His face goes blank before his flush comes back twice as strong. 

 

There’s an easy smirk on Auston’s face. “What’s surprising? The fact that I want to see such an elegant dancer perform?”

 

Mitch groans, pushing Auston slightly without a second thought. “That was so corny. Don’t ever say that again.” 

 

“What do you want me to say?” Auston laughs. 

 

Mitch pouts. 

 

“Don’t say anything at all. Just dance  _ with _ me then.”

**Author's Note:**

> who else likes tour jetes? i was a jump person. i suck at turns. cant do more than one pirouette *laughing emojis*
> 
> honestly the whole pointe (hah) of this fic was because i wanted mitch in POINTE SHOES. hes pretty. 
> 
> anyways, do yall have any thoughts?
> 
> if you liked this fic, leave me a kudos, and if you really liked it leave a comment down below! come talk to me on tumblr: www.mitcheemarns.tumblr.com (for some reason hyperlink is NOT working)


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